From The Shadows
by Black Knight 03
Summary: If the Wizarding World won't change, Neville will force it to. Written before Deathly Hallows was released. Neville is OC, not really dark but more grey. One-shot NL-GW and background HP-HG


Disclaimer – J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter

A/N – Written for thematichp on LiveJournal, the prompt is below. This was an attempt at something different, a different approach with a character than I normal would've taken, but it didn't come out as expected. Although, it was an interesting learning experience. Thanks to my beta, Thoth for her help. Lastly, this was written before DH was released and doesn't take in to account anything that happened in Book 7.

Prompt - There is a new Dark Lord, his name is Neville Longbottom, and he's both smarter and more ruthless than Voldemort ever dreamed of being. Dark!Ginny as his consort would be even better.

As the latest meeting of the Wizarding Council came to a close, Lord Greengrass quickly exited the Great Chamber and headed for his office. Following the end of the 2nd Great War, everything felt the repercussions. The government of Wizarding Britain was facing a shakeup right down to its foundations. The general wizard population was tired of the incompetence of the current incarnation of the Ministry Of Magic and there was growing call for a more representative style of government. Similar to the one of their Muggle counterparts.

Unfortunately, the current incarnation of the Council consisted of long established, powerful families who were mostly pure blooded. Even with their dwindling numbers, they had been in power since the conception and didn't not wish to see their power wane. When the Ministry, Wizengamot, and Council were created back some time in the Medieval Era, power had completely rested in the hands of a few rich families. While the number of families had risen, it was still a small minority of the full Wizarding population.

Lord Greengrass was a man torn by two loyalties. As part of the pure blooded political bloc that called itself the Heritage, he was expected to take the bloc's stand, especially on keeping the one house system. Unfortunately, he was not a man of his own accord, but a reluctant puppet to the man who remained in the shadows. This shadow puppet master, was a proponent of having a more representative legislature, and was not going to be happy about the latest vote, motion had been turned aside.

As he reached his office door, Lord Greengrass nervously glanced around him. Satisfied that no one had followed him, nor any one was lying in wait, he opened the door.

"Evening Osric," a voice from inside the office greeted him. "Come in… have a seat, and do close the door behind you."

Turning white, and pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his sweating brow. Reluctantly, he entered the small office and after shutting the door behind him, he heard the door lock.

"Sit," the voice ordered, and Lord Greengrass found himself sitting in the chair in front of his own desk. As he stared at the young man sitting comfortably in his leather chair, he tried not to show any of the nervousness that brewed inside him.

After few minutes of silence, in which the young man's eyes seemed to bore into his own, he was asked rhetorically, "What am I going to do with you?"

"I take it you know of the vote."

"Oh, I know the vote… and who voted how."

"Mr. Longbottom, I can explain. The Bloc needs to stand together, if not-" he lamely tried to defend himself.

With a disappointed look, Neville quickly used his wand, "_Silencio._ There, much better. I do hate it when fools make bigger fools of themselves. The Bloc is nothing more than a relic of times gone past. Many of them, foolish wizards who look to the past, and must be swept aside in the name of progress."

Neville leaned back in the leather chair, steeped his hands in front of him, and stared at the man in front of him. "I do hate disappointment."

"Do you remember Mister Totten, my dear Osric?" When the man stiffened, Neville grinned. He enjoyed the look of fear in the man's eyes. "Excellent. Now, can you imagine what I might do to someone who bungled something on a much grander scale?"

Lord Greengrass nervously swallowed. At the time of his death, it was widely rumored that Mister Totten was to meet with a high level Auror and turn over incriminating evidence about some shady business dealings with illegal potion ingredients. He had missed his appointment, and when the Aurors came calling, they found him dead in his study, seemingly petrified. Baffled by the case, it was still an open investigation. But those with the right information knew what had happened, if not all the details.

Following the war, the same problems arose that had caused the previous events. Bitter and resentful of the follow out of the 2nd Great War, and how little actually had changed, especially in the treatment his hero Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom struck out to change things. He looked to shape things in his own way, and after awhile, he began to seek revenge against those he perceived as his enemies.

Over the years, he had gathered together a group of supporters, and rallied them under the banner of continuing what Harry Potter had started for them. But like so many noble causes, it had begun to take on a dark twist.

When playing nice and by the rules had yielded little, Neville had turned to buying, selling, blackmailing, cheating, and even threatening his way into a very powerful position. But unlike Voldemort, he chose to stay behind the scenes. He was more the businessman than the dictator the former had been.

"I do have some ghastly business to deal with tonight, so I must leave," Neville said as he moved to stand. "Do remember that I don't think it'd be in your family's best interest if the Daily Prophet were to learn of another esteemed family with _dark _connections. Your daughter would have much explaining to do. How does one move fifteen hundred Galleons without a single trace?"

Lord Greengrass' eyes went wide in surprise, but Neville simply chuckled. "Remember who you are talking to." Then, Neville's expression took on a more predatory, and a bit of a lustful look, "Do tell your granddaughter, hello, and that I truly hope she won't have to pay for your mistakes… again."

With a simple flick of the wand, Neville unlocked the door, and cancelled the spell on Lord Greengrass before leaving.

Watching him leave, Lord Greengrass feared for his family. The Greengrass family had been one of the many families that had not taken an active participation in the war, but had secretly funded Voldemort both times. How Mr. Longbottom had found out his information, he didn't know, but that he simply knew put Lord Greengrass and his family even more under the powers of the young man than they already were. There was no place to go if brandished a Death Eater, or even hinted to be one. He would have to break the Bloc and try his hardest to push the two house vote.

A few hours later, at his home, Neville sat behind a desk in his study, watching a nervous Theodore Nott as he shifted and squirmed. Every time Neville dealt with a former enemy, he was reminded of a Muggle expression Hermione had said once, _There is no honor among thieves._

One way, and a surprisingly effective one, that Neville had found out the dirty little secrets that littered Death Eater's closest, was by applying the right kind of pressure upon the right individual. _It's amazing how fast these cowards will turn on each other if you know where to hit them._

In this particular case, it had been Nott who had informed him, among many other things, of the Greengrass' sizeable donation to Voldemort. Nott's father had been the contact Lord Greengrass' daughter had used to pass the funds through and to make sure there was no record of the transaction.

It didn't matter to Neville how the younger Nott found out any of his information, just that it was useful, if a bit embellished. Neville's men had found Nott hiding in southern Wales, trying to flee the country. Neville had presented him with two choices, he could either turn him over to the Aurors for a trip to Azkaban or he could tell Neville what he wanted to know.

That had been six months ago, and now Theodore's information had run out, as had his usefulness. Theodore knew this, and was trying anything to save himself from being sent to Azkaban.

As Neville listened to Nott's rambling, he watched Nott take rapid sips from his tea that had been served him. The more he talked, the more he drank.

Finally having enough, Neville cut him off. "You're a card player right, Nott?" When the man slowly nodded, he continued. "Even a novice card player knows enough to fold when he holds the weakest cards, and that, is what you have."

Leaning back in his chair, he propped his feet up on his desk and smirked as he watched Nott go white. "I am a business man, and smart businessmen know when to cut their losses."

"But Nev… Mr. Longbottom," Theodore stuttered out. "There's so much… more I can tell you. I'm more useful to you here, than Azk… Azkaban."

"Perhaps," Neville said softly, but knew it was pretty much a bluff on Nott's part. "But you see, even if you did, I still have you removed. You see Mr. Nott, I may have fought with Light, but I am a very vindictive, and I do hold a grudge.

"You're simply lucky that I had a use for you or otherwise… I'd have eliminated you upon finding your pathetic little hole."

Theodore began to stumble over his words and while his lips moved, nothing but an odd grunting noise came out. Shaking, he reached out his hand to grab the teacup and finished the contents. Suddenly, a deep coughing fit began to rack his body and the tea cup fell from his hand and shattered upon the floor.

Neville grinned as he continued. "Do not believe for a moment, that I have forgotten what happened when we were at school together. My first instinct was to simply hex you, clean and simple. But then I consider a more artistic approach. Have you ever heard of Aspertine Sap?"

Nott couldn't answer as his coughing fit grew worse and he fell out of the chair and to his knees.

"No? Pity… Nature has some of the most inventive poisons, that do a wide variety of things. While you and your snake friends were in the dungeons, with your cauldrons… I was studying Herbology and have come to master many of Nature's more… creative weapons. Aspertine Sap has no flavor, so if say, someone was to slip some in to a pot of tea, the drinker would be left unaware for awhile. Just a little Sap makes you a bit sick, but nothing serious. Now, a much high quantity can be quite lethal. Wouldn't you say, Theodore?"

His coughing stopped as he felt his throat constricted and suddenly couldn't breathe. Neville watched him as he neared death. "The Sap is a nasty little bugger that attacks the respiratory system. But I believe you knew that, didn't you?"

As Theodore fell still, Neville slowly put his feet down and stood up. Walking around the desk, he looked down upon Nott's still form. "It also leaves no trace of death," he said softly, then, reared back and kicked Nott hard in the chest, forcing whatever air remained out of his body.

"Bulstrode!"

A tall, powerfully built woman entered Neville's private study. Standing in the doorway, she glanced at the body on the floor before looking to Neville for direction.

"Remove this filth from my office," Neville ordered.

"Yes, m'lord," Millicent answered and then lifted the body so she could take it away. Towards the end of the war, Millicent, among many half-bloods in the families of Voldemort's ranks, had switched sides. Like Neville, Millicent hadn't had the best childhood, and using that, Neville had convinced her to enter his employment. While not the best with a wand, the woman was stronger than some men, and made a perfect escort and bodyguard.

As Millicent left, Ginny gracefully entered. Neville couldn't help but smile as his wife entered the room; her deep blood red robes seeming to stay closed and on her slim athletic frame by magic. "Ah, my fire goddess."

Ginny smirked back at him as she walked into his arms and kissed him. "Can't you and your friends play nice?" she teased. Neville watched her walk away from him and sit down on a couch in front of the fireplace. "Though at least this time, he didn't leave a mess."

When the Trio had spent the year hunting for Horcruexes, Ginny and Neville had been growing closer. Then, over Christmas, the Burrow had come under attack. Ginny had watched Ron die right in front of her eyes, trying to protect her. When the dust had settled, it had been Neville who had been there to help her, not Harry. As the rest of the year went by, Ginny began to think a lot like Neville, and came to thrive for revenge on those that had wronged her. Namely, those that had killed her brother.

"You spill a little blood," Neville quickly fired back. "Now, is there a reason you came down here, or is it simply to test my self constraint?"

She flashed him an innocent smile. "Healer Marks says our patient is reacting nicely to your antidote," Ginny said as she lounged provocatively on the couch.

"Excellent," he muttered as he let his eyes wonder over Ginny. Finally, tearing his eyes away from her, he glanced at the large clock that adorned the mantle. "Our guest should be here momentarily."

"Do you think he'll play?"

Neville shrugged. "If you go by his public reputation, you'd expect him to put up a fight. But if anyone were more the opposite of their public persona, it'd be him." He walked over to his desk, grabbed the new pot of tea that his House Elves had prepared, and poured himself a cup. Taking a sip, he stood in contemplative silence for a moment. "I believe, given the right incentive," he said and then turned to look at his wife, "he will not be a problem for us."

Seconds later, a House Elf appeared in the room, standing in front of Neville. "I take it our _welcomed _guest as arrived?" As the House Elf nodded to his master, Ginny stood. "Now, play nice you two. I don't want anything broken." She then glanced over her shoulder at him with come-hither look, "And don't take so long. I think a good workout would be nice before bed."

Smirking for a moment, Neville felt very tempted to blow off the meeting and follow her. But those thoughts were chased from his mind as he caught sight of his old friend entering the study. Physically, he simply looked like a taller and older version of the small boy he had met back in their first year. But now, there was more of a powerful, commanding aura that surrounded him; a strong confidence somewhere within.

"Hello, Harry. I'm glad you could come."

"Neville," Harry said back, with a small nod of the head. "I think we should talk."

Neville smiled as Harry eyes looked into his own. _He will try to put on the front, but I know the truth. I also know what he really wants._ "Shall we drop the pretexts then?"

For a second Harry lips twitched into a grin. "Alright. I've been hearing… dark rumblings against certain," Harry paused as he searched for the right word, "_individuals._"

"I thought we were going to drop with the pretext?" Chuckling for a second, Neville perched himself on the edge of his desk. "And you believe meek, little Neville is behind it."

Mimicking his words, "I thought we were going to drop with the pretext?" Harry folded his arms across his chest and shifted his weight into a more comfortable position. "I may not have all the facts, but I do know I'm on the right track."

"And so you are. But isn't it interesting that those who are crying foul now, were the ones doing the same thing just a few short years ago." As he reached down to grab his cup, Neville glanced at Harry, "Tea?"

As Harry shook his head no, he took a sip before continuing. "Am I opposing those _individuals,_ as you put it, and trying to remove them? Yes, I am doing everything within my power to remove the disease before it kills the plant. But last time I checked, it wasn't illegal to sponsor and support those who had an opposing agenda."

"If it were only that." Harry slowly looked around the room, as if admiring the furnishings. "Do you honestly think I would be blindsided when… things like this begin happening. You should know, it isn't hard to find things out when you have people in the right places."

"Very true. All those drubbings you took at the chess board have paid off. But why would you try and protect these _individuals?_"

"Because it's the right thing to do."

For the first time, Neville lost his friendly demeanor and his voice raised a bit. "Don't give me that nonsense. The right thing to do would've been to place you in a loving home, to protect my parents, or least of all, punish the scum the first time instead of letting most of them off with barely a slap on the wrist."

Quickly composing himself, Neville set the cup back upon the saucer and took a deep breath. "These people need to be punished. They have no respect for law, they way we do. So we must punish them where it hurts and if it means crossing a few lines, so be it…. We are living in a changing society, but still using antique rules for governing that society…. Things need to be changed, Harry. We won the war, but why are things like they were before? Maybe even worse."

"And you would stoop to their level to accomplish that? What if your dream isn't what others want? What happens when you throw away the old, but people don't want the new? I remember quiet vividly… a similar wizard… one, who had ideals very similar to your own."

Neville nodded. "There are similarities, yes. But I have no illusions of grandeur, simply a vision of what could be a better tomorrow. Look, Harry, we could debate this back and forth for eons. I don't want to fight you."

"I don't even want you to fight with me."

When Harry's face furrowed in confusion, Neville stood up and walked to him. "Aside from the fact that you are one of the most powerful wizards to have lived, and can easily defeat me on my best day, I have no desire to fight you because you are my closest friend. If you had truly wanted to stop me, you would've rained down upon me with at least a squad of Aurors." He stopped in front of Harry and grinned, "Well, perhaps you would've done me the honor of at least a pair of Aurors with you."

"In the last war, Harry, you fought not because you wanted to do or even felt you needed to. You were forced because you had to. I do not want you to repeat the same mistake. I simply want you to stand aside, and not be involved. You've done your bit for King and Country, let the next man do his part." He lightly gripped Harry's shoulder and gestured out of the study.

As the pair walked, Harry watched his friend from the corner of his eye. "Why would I simply stand aside?"

"Because it is time you looked out for you?" Neville answered simply. "You wish to protect a public that has either called for your head or your grace. Why do you insist on even caring about them?"

"My friends."

"Are my friends too," Neville quickly interrupted. "Harry, I'm prepared to offer you the one thing that you have been searching for your entire life… a family." Before Harry could say a thing, Neville went on. "You're no longer a part of the Auror ranks, haven't been for a year or so. Instead, you've been acting on your own, searching. And, not having the best of luck locating it either, from what I've heard…. What if I were to offer it to you?"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and spun on Neville. Neville felt the sudden pressure of Harry's magic swirling around them. "Do not toy with me, Neville!"

"I'm not," Neville said. Even though he had become a stronger and more confident man himself, it was hard not to react to the power behind Harry. "I have created a cure for Hermione."

In the final days of the war, Hermione had been struck by an odd curse. At first, it seemed there had been no lingering effects after performing a simple counter and healing the physical injury. But a few months after the war, she began to show odd symptoms. At first, she was simply tired more often and easier. Then, she started to become sick more often, having a hard time of recovering as well. It was when the power behind Hermione's magic began fluctuating, that they began to looking more closely. Almost a year afterwards, the Healers discovered that curse that had struck her wasn't a simple curse, and even though the spell itself had been lifted, it had left behind a nasty surprise. The way it had been explained was that the original curse was simply a carrier for the slow moving curse that was now affecting Hermione; almost a cloak and dagger attack. Since then, Harry had been on a single minded mission to find a cure; it had cost him his job as an Auror, but he hadn't minded giving it up if it meant saving her.

Neville knew Harry was a much stronger opponent, but also knew, everyone had a weak spot. For Harry, it was Hermione. "Through means… which you don't have to worry about, I have found at least a rough outline of how both curses work. Unfortunately, due to the second curse being cast inside the body, we haven't been able to successfully counter curse it yet. But I believe I have a potion that can at least neutralize the curse, if not eradicate it completely."

"What are the effects?"

"Long term," Neville said slowly. "We don't know. Short term, most of our tests have revealed that at the least it will stop the affects from expanding." Seeing the reluctance and sense the apprehension in Harry, Neville motioned for them to continue their walk up a staircase. "My Healers have been testing this potion for months now, while there were a few missteps, our most recent patients have shown a remarkable progress."

"The only problem is, we have yet to test it on someone with such a long term exposure as Hermione. My personal Healer believes that if we give her a series of somewhat diluted potions, it should… at the very least, contain it from growing anymore."

As Neville came to a stop, Harry quickly followed suit. His mind racing about what could happen in the next few hours. _After so much bull, could this actually help her? What about the price? _

_Screw the price,_ he quickly answered his own question. _Neville's_ _right. Hermione's much more important than those hypocrites. _

Opening the door, Neville lead them into potions laboratory, heading straight for a painting of a knight on horseback that hung along one wall. Standing in front of the picture, Neville whispered a password. The Knight nodded in receipt of the command, and the portrait swung forward revealing a safe of sorts. Neville reach inside, and withdrew a small wooden box.

"Harry, if I may make a small suggestion," he said while turning around. "I found out the Black's have a beautiful estate in Northern Italy. Take this box," he then placed is other hand on the top of the box, "and Hermione there. Live the rest of your life in comfort and peace. From both families, you have more then enough Galleons for many lifetimes, not even including your investments. Please, Harry, just step aside and let someone else hold the banner and lead us."

"How can I trust this will work? Or even that it won't hurt Hermione?" 

In all seriousness, "Do I look like I want to be dead?"

Sighing softly, Harry took the wooden box. He then narrowed his eyes at Neville, "I'll be watching."

"I know." Gesturing back towards the door, "Shall I walk you to the Apparating point?"

"No need," and then with a very soft pop, Harry Apparated himself out of the room.

Standing there, Neville was both impressed and upset that Harry had casually slipped through some of the most elaborate and expensive Wards he had had cast upon his home. Swinging the portrait shut, he realized that he would have to devote more resources to being on guard when it came to Harry.

_That can wait until morning. Right now, I have a gorgeous red head waiting for me, and I know she hates to be kept waiting._


End file.
